


Jailbird

by Vaerin



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-09-25 06:12:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9806705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vaerin/pseuds/Vaerin
Summary: Past events leave Ichi fighting to get back to his twin. A mass murder sends him to an island prison that's not what it seems. With Shiro back, he's out to uncover the truth. Like why an unconvicted man lives amongst them and why is Ichi falling for him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, guys. It's been so long since I read this one, I don't really know what's in it ^^; I'll try to browse it later and add in tags. Until then, READ WITH CAUTION!!! I don't think it's really that bad, but... it could've been one of my venting fics. I'm not too sure. Anyway, this is one of the fics I was asked to put here. It's probably not all that great, but some people like it. That's all that matters =) Please enjoy.

The moonlight shines through the broken blinds, spilling out into the wreckage of the large room. The winds drift slyly past a jagged hole in the window where glass was broken, crimson trailing in thick rivulets down the once clear expanse. Bodies lay strewn all over the once polished wooden floors of dark mahogany, the stink of rotting flesh tainting the room as their utter stillness leaves no doubt to their lack of life. The life’s fluid that had traveled their veins now pools on the floor alongside scattered jewelry and bullet casings, paints the walls beside ripped paintings, and even drips steadily from the ceiling and light fixtures. All of them were inconsequential; just society’s scum living it up on blood money and illegal favors… their final breaths cut short before they even realized it was, indeed, their last. The only sounds filling the room now, aside from the clatter of the broken blinds, is the pitter-patter of blood… and the soft, even breathing of a single teen seated within the midst of such an unholy massacre. His hair, usually so vibrant and orange, is soaked with the blood of the fallen. His amber eyes, steely and forever defiant, are closed in quiet contemplation. His lithe body, a feminine swimmer’s build with naught but muscle, is coated in crimson that drips from every available surface in hopes of announcing its presence all the more. These people were the ones that took his older twin from him, left him a bit unhinged… were the ones murdered not half an hour ago when the moon hung high in the night sky by Ichigo Kurosaki. Their twisted expressions of shock and horror, for there was no time for screams, are glorious.

Ichigo’s downward spiral began at eight years of age, when his mother was gunned down before him… the victim of mistaken identity in a gang hit. He ended up staying the weekends with his Aunt Yorouchi and Uncle Kisuke from then on, his twin ever glued to his hip. At twelve, however, that was forced to end.

The youth had been taken by a group of younger gang members looking to earn a few extra bucks from a famous doctor, as Isshin Kurosaki was steadily rising in fame from increasingly difficult surgeries completed successfully. They all knew he loved his family, but the girls were always beneath his ever watchful eye and Ichigo was the only one docile enough to take advantage of. Shiro only looked away a moment, just one second to glance at a suspicious looking man that had been following the two, and Ichigo was gone.

As famous as Isshin was, however, it didn’t help. The cops brushed it off as a runaway case, which led the older twin to take matters into his own hands. It was only to be expected, as Shiro and Ichigo hadn’t been apart since their mother’s womb… they were far too dependent on one another, what one lacked in personality the other made up for and it kept them safe. Those older teens, unfortunately, didn’t take that into account. They touched what they shouldn’t have in ways Ichigo was too young to encounter… and they died by Shiro’s hands. All ten of them were torn apart by the infuriated twelve-year-old’s bare hands, a small affair but brutal enough in presentation to be called a massacre… The cops were _very_ interested then. The trial would’ve past without hassle, but those within the gang tagged the twins as members and Shiro was taken forcibly from his brighter twin… locked away in a prison for those lost to the world. So dependent on his twin is he, that Ichigo broke that night. He moved in completely with his aunt and uncle, locking himself away and taking on any challenge to keep his mind occupied. It wasn’t long before challenges were few and far between, leaving the orangette’s amber eyes to turn to thievery on ever climbing scales. Ichigo never kept anything, as the most inviting dare is getting everything back in its proper place when everyone’s guard is up.

Now here he sits, too lost without his pale twin to go on and sitting among the product of his vengeance on those that stole Shiro. Ichigo is aware how it all came to this; how he could throw away everything in a single night of bloodlust… it was their fault after all. The door is knocked in brutally from the entrance hall, cops shouting and scattering as they make their rounds. The thick soles of their boots clunk heavily against wood floors, flashlight beams sweeping across the doorways before they make their usual hectic entrance. Gasps circulate as eyes take in the carnage, boots sticking to slick blood and a rookie slipping on the liquid before meeting the floor with a thump. Ichigo opens his almost gold eyes, those from the force back when Shiro was caught immediately aiming in caution. Carefully, as those gold orbs cool to amber, he shows his hands. The blood soaked teen of nineteen sets those dangerous hands against the floor, sliding them forward before lifting them and returning to his earlier position. The cellphone is pink and the cover is shimmering with bedazzled jewels, the phone of a rich bitch spoiled with payoffs and sex money.

“Where’s his weapon?” a young rookie asks nervously.

“This is too much like last time,” a seasoned vet sighs. “There’s no mistaking that face, though I never expected this from such a mild mannered kid… That’s Ichigo Kurosaki.”

“So? Was he caught before?”

“No, he was a victim before. It was his twin brother that was shipped off to the prison island… murdered a large group of teen gangsters.”

“A copycat murder?” the rookie suggests as all eyes lay heavily upon the orangette. “So… what was the weapon then? There are a lot of shell casings, but no gun that I can see on him.”

“… Shiro Kurosaki used his bare hands,” a woman remarks from the doorway as the rookie gawks in disbelief at the youth. “I’m here to talk down the boy.”

Amber eyes glance her way, his body unmoving save for that tiny flicker. She’s small and quite petite, her violet eyes almost anime large and her raven locks kept short. Ichigo knows her, as she grew up with the twins… she’s a few years older, but they’ve known each other since the boys were eight. Rukia Kuchiki’s brother, Byakuya Kuchiki, is the head of the police department and always despised the system for splitting the two up. Since he frequently watched the twins, he wasn’t permitted to take part in the trial. Although he constantly told the judge Shiro was a good kid and the gang members were lying, his comments were brushed off as being bias… It was obvious the judge was paid off well, but no one could prove it.

“Ichigo, nii-sama will be very upset to hear of this,” Rukia scolds. “What were you thinking?”

“… I can’t do it anymore, Rukia,” Ichigo comments in a raspy voice long since underused. “It’s been seven years; I can’t live without him anymore. I’d much rather be caged _with_ him than hold freedom _without_ him.”

“And what’s with the massacre? Had to go out like him on a grand scale?”

“… I just wanted to make sure they paid,” he growls lowly. “I’m sick because of them. My twin is gone because of them. I lived seven years of _hell_ and it’s all their fault! They stole our lives… so I stole theirs.”

“Ichigo… you could be sentenced to death for this,” she whispers in shock.

“I know, that’s why I called the police. Don’t you understand? I was dependent on Shiro, Rukia. I _can’t_ live without him.”

“You’ve done so for seven years.”

Ichigo is quiet a moment, his eyes downcast as the police watch the exchange curiously. For being a murderer, they’re quite aware of how civil the orangette is being. It’s a rarity to come across killers like this without them having a mental problem.

“I haven’t,” the teen finally murmurs. “That night, when they forced us apart, I broke. Two days later, I was jumped by more members of that gang. They were older and Shiro wasn’t there to protect me anymore… I passed out and woke to find them beaten up and unconscious. Uncle Kisuke checked me over and determined I’m so dependent on Shiro, that I created a second personality to mimic his while he’s gone.”

“What?” she gasps.

She’s known the two needed one another, but never knew it was that bad. Although, glancing around at the scene far too similar to the first… it’s apparent Ichigo could never have the stomach to do this. Knowing how overprotective Shiro could be, Rukia’s almost positive the less hostile twin called for the safety of others more than his own desires. Shiro wouldn’t hesitate to kill someone for _looking_ at his baby twin wrong… as was proven when he tried to strangle the corrupt judge at his trial.

“Please, Rukia,” Ichigo states with pleading and determined eyes. “Please… I don’t want to hurt people anymore. Just lock me away. A death sentence is still better than losing my other half… I can’t hug a personality.”

It takes a long while, but eventually Rukia holds a hand out for the handcuffs. With a relief that breaks her heart, the docile boy she watched grow up lifts his hands gratefully to be carted off. He follows without a peep, the clattering blind echoing within the deadly silent room as he leaves. The sound of dripping life will forever be burned into his memory… but for once he doesn’t mind it.

The trial isn’t even a trial, as the evidence leaves no doubt to his guilt and the orangette even confesses. The judge, an old man named Yamamoto that watched Ichigo closely after Shiro’s sentencing, knows something is wrong here. He calls a short recess though his judgment should be simple, taking Byakuya and Kisuke aside and into his office for a short chat.

“This doesn’t feel right,” he sighs. “That boy has his problems, but he’s a thief not a murderer.”

“A thief that has yet to be caught or pinned to any heist,” Kisuke comments proudly.

“I agree wholeheartedly,” the tall raven murmurs as he ignores the blonde’s comment. “Rukia had mentioned he wants to be with Shiro again.”

“I’m afraid it’s more serious than that,” the blonde remarks suddenly somber.

They both look to him curiously, awaiting his explanation with baited breath. The blonde man is a genius that provides his extensive intellect to all manner of areas, his forte however lies within law enforcement… he’s a detective, gang boss, and owner of the underground fights. He’s the first person the force goes to for rumors and gossip, especially since his beautiful wife is a spy turned thief.

“I believe Ichigo didn’t commit this mass murder. Though the evidence points to him and he plead guilty, I’m going to stick by that,” he says firmly. “When Shiro was taken… You have to understand, those boys need each other like we need air. They’re the absolute worst case of dependency I’ve ever seen… they still bathed together at the age of twelve! They couldn’t even go to the bathroom without the other present… they were each other’s shadows…”

“Please, continue,” Yamamoto states.

“… When Shiro was taken from him, Ichigo stopped eating. He shied away from his family, wouldn’t speak, couldn’t function… it was as if his soul was stolen and not his twin. Thankfully, Yorouchi has a truly gifted hand at motherhood!”

The two men, knowing the exotic woman with violet hair, can only stare in disbelief at the comment. The dark skinned sadist most likely beat the kid up until he bent to her will. At the sight of their bland looks, Kisuke clears his throat and continues awkwardly.

“Anyway, once he started getting out again, that gang retaliated against the cause of their headache. Ichigo’s only protection against these ill attacks was Shiro… who was locked away by a corrupt judge. He developed a failsafe personality that echoes Shiro’s. It puts everyone’s lives in danger as long as the two are apart.”

“How is that?” Byakuya inquires curiously.

“When together, their opposing personalities act as one another’s conscience. When apart, however, there’s no one to stop Shiro’s rampage or protect Ichigo’s more passive nature from threats. With this failsafe personality, Ichigo is pushed to the back and ‘Shiro’ is left to do as he pleases.”

With this new information Ichigo has yet to mention, it’s clear what the best course of action would be. The recess is ended and the three males rejoin those in the courtroom, Yamamoto sitting in his high backed chair and silently cursing the judge before him at the sight of the innocent and broken life. If Aizen did as he swore when taking up this position, Ichigo wouldn’t be fighting for his life in such a manner. The sentence is past, the joy and overwhelming relief within amber orbs sending pity and sadness through those present. After seven long years… Ichigo will be reunited with his other half.

The plane ride is uneventful, Rukia and Byakuya accompanying the orangette along with Kisuke and Yorouchi. Isshin was asked not to come, along with the younger twins, Karin and Yuzu. They weren’t at the hearing under the teen’s request as well, the youth not wanting to see the disappointed look he just knows he’ll be on the receiving end of. He loves his family; however he and Shiro were never like them in all truthfulness… they were always different. Sometimes that difference isn’t noticeable, but in others… it’s so painfully obvious. Isshin always blamed himself, having started out in the poor neighborhoods that surround youths with violence and gangs. He’s positive his past had corrupted his children at some point.

The prison he’s been sentenced to is so far away there is no escape, the large island having been converted into a jail twenty-one years ago after a couple hoping to set up an expedition had turned up devoured by the local animals… If anyone can hold their own it would be the animals in human skin called inmates. Once he says goodbye to his family and friends, he’s escorted past the monstrous gates that line the entire mass of island. His guard is silent, unarmed, and obviously tired. He doesn’t know him, though he feels he should… Rukia had introduced him to many aspiring cops throughout their lives.

“Welcome to hell on earth,” the guard states as he opens a large metal door. “Only animals survive here, kid, so I’m hoping you’re tougher than you look.”

Ichigo’s eyes almost pop out of his head, the sight before him is just… indescribable. This place is obviously not a typical prison, as there are no halls or exercise yards, no guard towers or roaming sentries, no prison cells or orange jumpsuits. It’s all open, huge fields of wildflowers and forest in the distance before mountains brush past them. The wind is cool upon his skin, the sun warmly kissing his face, and he could almost trick himself into thinking he’s been granted passage to the most wonderful paradise on earth. Breathing in, his inhuman senses pick up a slight hint of smoke and a touch of blood… it’s been a long time since the fight or murder, though.

“Here, these are the keys to your apartment,” the guard sighs. “Everything you need should be there. The phone has a direct line to the guardhouse in case you need anything, there are jobs out there… but newbies tend to end up in prostitution. You’re a pretty young thing, you’ll do well. Once you manage to make enough money, you can move from the district you’ve been placed in, but only if you contact us first. We still have to keep tabs on you guys, after all.”

“Oi! I’m not a prostitute, I’m a thief!” Ichigo snaps displeased.

“Lucky you… this is where you maniacs are free to be whoever or… whatever… you happen to be,” the man drawls. “This means that unless you’ve got some sort of protection from the resident bad asses, your ass is likely to be abused in all manner of ways.”

“Whatever,” he bristles. “Where can I find Shiro Kurosaki?”

The guard visibly flinches at the name, his skin taking on a pallor as his features twist in fear. Obviously, Shiro hasn’t changed much. It takes a long while for the man to calm himself, but the orangette has always been a patient person.

“He’s living in the desert section, but prowls the meadow and forest districts… he’s looking to relocate. You don’t want to fuck with him though, he’s seriously bad news.”

“I know,” Ichigo smiles overjoyed. “He’s my big brother!”

Ichigo saunters off, leaving the guard in complete shock. His keys have a tag attached with his name and address, telling him he lives in Mid-district. Written beneath that in smaller type and within parenthesis is ‘the red district’… obviously having to do with the prostitution comment. Frowning, he opens the map given to him. Mid-district is smack dab in the middle of the island, the terrain looking to be barren and the town seemingly small. It’s surrounded by all the other types of terrain… forest, meadow, desert, mountain, and even a huge lake with a town built on the mediocre island at its center. He studies the map, folding it and tucking it away once he’s done. He won’t need it anymore, but’s it’s always good to be prepared. The first town he comes to is full of people, the gates guarded by a lazy brunette and a stoic raven that looks just this side of emo. Ichigo doesn’t care for guards of any type, the orangette’s entire career making it a point to avoid them, so he takes a running leap at the huge stone wall and alternates between that and a sturdy tree beside it until he’s over. It’s child’s play to him really, the teen having gone through far more challenging climbs. Leaping down and effortlessly walking away, he doesn’t notice the lazy brunette watching in a subtle interest. As Ichigo makes his way deeper into the town, he realizes it’s not much different from walking through his old home. There are apartment buildings, shops, restaurants, and gyms… but no vehicles and few bars. He catches sight of a movie theater on the corner, litter blowing in the gentle breeze, and a club just down the street. Crime seems to be a huge thing here, graffiti painting every building and buzzing alarms still screaming as though turning them off is a hassle.

“What the hell?” he wonders aloud. “Do they seriously get robbed that often? Why have the damn thing hooked up in the first place?”

With a light shrug of his shoulders, he moves on. He notes this section must be used for brawls, as he’s already past a good dozen, and tries to keep away from anyone looking for a challenger. The last thing he needs at this moment is to go into his bloodthirsty mode, the very thought drawing an unpleasant shiver from him. He glances to the side and catches sight of a gorgeous man with teal locks styled messily, the youth coming to an abrupt halt to just stare at the other. He’s perfect, rippling muscle and Adonis-like features, and the orangette finds he wants that man. Shaking his head violently to dislodge the thought, he continues forward with a grumble. Ichigo is just passing a dingy street littered with fighters, when someone tackles him unforgivingly.

*Great, I’m gonna die my first day, * he thinks in irritation.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here's the next chapter for this fic. I honestly don't know what happens in it, so I'm not going to leave any summaries for the chapters. Eventually, I'll reread it and fix this mess. Right now, I'm trying to reread Angels of Eden. Obviously, I forgot some of the stuff I wrote... yeah, you read right... Don't judge me! I've been too busy writing to read T^T I also came across a rather interesting book. In case you guys need a good read, check out 'Solon' by Raymond springer. It's a mystery that borders on fantasy of sorts. A lot of run-on sentences and 'ly' words, but that's no different than mine XP The store is rather interesting and his imagination is amazing. Until next update, Cupcakes! X3

The minute Ichigo hits the ground, his body is using the fall’s momentum to roll his attacker over him and reposition himself on top. His fist is pulled back and ready to start pummeling as his amber orbs flicker between that and gold, but the sight of vivid gold eyes and snow white hair stops him. The orangette’s body jerks off of the ground and onto his feet, his amber orbs trained on the one now standing. This man is lithe, holding Ichigo’s build and only slightly taller, and exudes an air of insane joy that could make the most bloodthirsty man wet himself.

“Shiro?” Ichigo murmurs.

“Ichigo?” a slightly rougher voice answers.

The younger teen is vaguely aware of a few others surrounding them, of the two placed on guard duty at the town’s gate joining them, but that doesn’t matter now. Shiro and Ichigo launch themselves at one another, gripping tightly as though their lives depend on it, and bawl their happiness into each other’s shoulder.

“I missed ya… so much!” Shiro cries. “What the… hell are ya doin’ here?”

“I just… couldn’t do it anymore,” the younger twin sniffles. “It hurt so much… I… I… I killed them all! Everyone from that gang. They’re all dead, Shi-nii.”

Shiro starts at that, golden eyes surrounded by eerie black contacts that cover his sclera wide in bafflement. Ichigo, his Ichi… someone that cried when he accidentally stepped on a cat’s tail at the age of eleven… _killed_ people?

“Ichi… tell me what happened,” he mumbles calmly.

“They hurt us! They made me sick and I couldn’t stand harming people anymore… so I killed them all and called the cops to pick me up!” he sobs brokenly.

“Who’d ya hurt, Ichi?”

“Anyone that attacked me or looked at me wrong… anyone you would hurt,” he whispers as he clings tighter to his lifeline. “Uncle Kisuke said I created a second personality that mimicked yours so I’d be safe. I kept blacking out and waking to bloody scenes where my attackers were barely alive… I couldn’t handle that anymore, I just… I just wanted you back.”

Shiro holds his baby twin firmer, hushing him softly as he gently rocks them. He knows how Ichigo is feeling; seven years had him growing slightly more insane by the day without his better half. If it weren’t for his ‘family’ he’d have been running into the forest to live with the wolves… They actually found him heading in that direction in nothing but his boxers, cackling like a madman and howling in a fit of borderline insanity. Not one of his proudest moments.

“Who’s the fresh bitch?” a lecherous voice wonders.

“He ain’t ta be touched!”

Shiro’s voice is cold enough to freeze the blood in their veins, the dangerous edge slicing into them to leave phantom injuries they’ll be feeling later. The porcelain skinned male is only like that with one other person… Gin Ichimaru, his lover. Noting this, it’s easy to tell this new ‘inmate’ is important to the dangerous killer. They back off at once, giving them room to breathe although eyes still wander the beautiful feminine body in Shiro’s embrace. A warning growl is all they get before the pale twin gracefully maneuvers his baby brother aside and swings at a tall beanstalk of a man. With a snarl, the single punch turns into a snowy haired male pouncing like a starved tiger. The tall man curses rather loudly, falling to the dirt and fighting to get away from the rabid male.

“Shi-nii!” Ichigo snaps. “He didn’t do anything wrong!”

“I don’ like ‘em lookin’ at ya like that!”

“Looks can’t kill me, Shiro. Let him up!”

To everyone’s surprise, the older twin hesitates before getting off the other. Ichigo recognizes the fallen man as Nnoitra Jiruga, a man incarcerated five years ago for underground fighting… he was known for killing his opponents with a single hit, racking up over thirty murders before he was caught. The man stands, towering over Ichigo at nearly seven feet in height, and looks cautiously at the white haired twin with a sharp violet eye. The other eye is covered in a black eye patch, drawing curiosity from the orangette, and his raven locks hang loosely down his back. He quickly places a silver haired male with a large smile and closed, foxlike eyes between them. Ichigo knows this man, too. He knows the majority of the worst, as Rukia and Byakuya refused to drop him off without briefing him on them. The silver haired man is Gin Ichimaru… a thief, a killer, a spy, and so many other things it’s really unknown how corrupted he is. He’s been living on the streets since he was nine, but he’s been dabbling in illegal businesses since he was five… the man was bred on sin. He can see Ulquiorra Cifer, a nearly impossible to catch hacker that spent his days taking down government sites for the hell of it. Stark Coyote, the retired army sniper turned assassin, sits on the curb nearby. Tia Hallibel and Nelliel Tu Oderswank, the dangerous duo known for robbery and taking out gang members without batting a lash, are near Stark with the sea green haired woman on the blonde’s lap. The Grantz brothers, Szayel and Ilfort, known for partaking in medical experiments that killed an innumerable amount of patients, stand off to the right in boredom. Ichigo can feel himself become lightheaded with the knowledge of these high casualty cases surrounding him, yet he forces himself to keep his guard up and follow Gin’s movements with his eyes.

“Now, now, koi,” Gin teasingly reprimands. “Nnoi can’ help he’s a ass.”

“The next person that talks ‘bout my baby twin like he’s a piece a meat, I’m gonna…”

“Who’s the fresh bitch?”

The group inhales sharply, all eyes watching Shiro’s brow twitch in his rage. Walking up to them, and drawing Ichigo’s attention like a moth to a flame, is the man with teal hair. He seems to be in the midst of the dangerous group, yet there were no files on him in Byakuya’s vast collection. Shiro swings, however Ichigo instinctually steps before him to catch his fist.

“Shiro, he didn’t catch your warning. You just can’t… AH!”

Ichigo’s rant is cut short when a thick arm wraps around his waist, quickly lifting him and depositing him behind the muscular man. The orangette blinks in surprise, lost for words at this sudden change. From this position, he can make out the fact that this unbelievably gorgeous man is built more for speed despite his muscle. His skin is so tan it’s obvious he’s lived more in the sun, his eyes such an untamed cyan it leaves no doubt that he belongs here, and that grin he once caught on those lips is gone to leave a slightly irritated frown. Shiro’s hackles are raised, his fists ready for blood, yet this man turns away from him to access the new inmate carelessly.

“Are you crazy?” he frowns.

“Duh,” Nnoitra snorts in humor. “Isn’t that why we’re all here?”

A sharp look his way has the tall man shutting up, making certain to keep Gin in front of him for a human shield. He doesn’t seem to mind it, so the teen can only assume it happens often… with the pet name for his older brother, ‘often’ most likely means ‘at least five times a day’. The large and almost feral male turns back to him, teeth bared enough to tell his canines are a bit sharper than normal.

“Shiro isn’t the type you jump in front of! Are you _trying_ to get yourself killed the first day? Who’d they assign you?”

“… What?”

“Newbies always get an advisor assigned to them… they usually repay them with sex. Who’d they assign you?”

“If I have to sleep with someone just to learn the ropes, I’d rather die in a fucking gutter!” Ichigo growls furiously.

“Ichi, tell me who it is now,” Shiro snarls. “I’m gonna beat the livin’ shit outta ‘im!”

“I don’t know! I got some keys and a map from the guard, and then I asked where to find you before leaving. No one told me anything about an advisor!”

“Wait… you asked where he was?” the muscular Adonis wonders. “Why the hell would you ask that?”

“He’s my older brother, why wouldn’t I?” Ichigo inquires in confusion.

The man made to mirror ancient Greek statues is surprised, but he doesn’t show it. His glimmering cyan eyes are as cold as the Arctic Ocean and his features are smoothing into a perfect poker face, yet Ichigo can sense his bafflement through his hesitation to speak. After a silence that has the orangette holding his breath, his body begging to hear that sinful and smooth baritone once more, the mystery man speaks.

“If they didn’t appoint you an advisor, I’ll deal with you,” he remarks. “I need a new bitch anyway; I got bored with the last one.”

Shiro smacks his face before shaking his head, yet Ichigo pulls back and slams his fist into the arrogant man’s jaw. Afterward he turns with a huff, grabs Shiro’s wrist, and drags him away toward the exit and his district. Before he can get too far, however, the man darts forward. With a speed unknown by average humans, the male Ichigo knows he’ll be having wet dreams about despite his unfavorable attitude is standing in his path in a slight crouch.

“Damn, you’re a feisty one,” he chuckles. “The name’s Grimmjow Jaegerjaques… what’s yours, Kitten?”

“Ichigo Kurosaki and I am _no one’s_ ‘Kitten’!” he snaps. “Get out of my way before I kick your ass!”

“Shit, talk ‘bout personalities clashin’,” Shiro grumbles. “Ichi, Grimm ain’t exactly the type ta react ta violence wit violence.”

“What else can someone react to it with?” the younger frowns.

“…Lust.”

At that, Ichigo looks to the larger man in caution and uncertainty. Cyan orbs are dilated with said lust, a groan leaving those thin lips before turning into an animalistic growl, and the teen could swear the other man’s pants seem a little tighter. Without thinking and acting solely on instinct, Ichigo lashes out with a strong kick that connects with that hardening member. Grimmjow is down and Ichigo is bolting, Shiro and Nnoitra cackling in glee before the snowy haired twin forces himself to go after his irate brother.

“No!” Grimmjow hisses. “He’s mine.”

“Come on, he ain’t easy ta catch,” Shiro remarks. “Chase ‘im on yer own time, right now I gotta get ta ‘im ‘fore the customers a the red district… he’s livin’ there.”

“I’ll deal with it.”

“Ichi’s been writin’ me since I got fucked over,” Shiro huffs stubbornly. “He’s a thief, but he wasn’ caught ‘till he called in a murder an’ sat ‘till the cops showed up. Ya won’ catch ‘im ‘less he wants ya ta. I ain’t losin’ my brother after seven years witout ‘im!”

Grimmjow and Shiro face off, both eager to claim rights to the fresh teen… one as family and one as a lover. Gin knows Shiro is one of extremely few that would risk attacking the teal haired man, but this is Grimmjow’s island and he’s not exactly human so to speak. Gin has known the other since he was dumped off in his thirteenth year, fresh from the murder of a couple cops, and he knows of Grimmjow’s early years. It’s no secret, but it’s not something people like to remember either. Grimmjow’s personality is quite feline, he’s horribly territorial and possessive… he had killed twenty inmates before Gin managed to help the guards explain everything to him, yet those here still aren’t allowed in his personal territory. When he wants something, there’s absolutely no force within Hell, Heaven, or Earth that will stop him from getting it. His eyes are now on Ichigo, something Shiro is loath to give up, and he doesn’t want his koi hurt.

“Now, koi. Ya can’ deny Grimmy a fresh chase on his own island,” he comments soothingly. “Let ‘im have his fun. I caught the address on Ichi’s keychain; we’ll go there an’ wait fer ‘im.”

“… ‘Kay,” Shiro sighs in relent. “But he better not scare ‘im. Ichi ain’t exactly a poor innocent teen… he can be worse than me when pressed.”

Grimmjow waits for nothing more to be said, his body tearing after the younger Kurosaki without another thought. The breeze beats against his body, the scents upon it assault his nose, and the earth sinks beneath his feet only just. He’s a practiced hunter, born and bred to do nothing but, and this new prey will end up warming his bed when he finally catches him. Just as Shiro came off as more than human, Ichigo gives off that same sent and aura. He draws the teal haired man like a jaguar in heat, the older man wanting nothing more than to bury his desire within that perfect body. He sprints through the forest just past the town, grinning widely now that he’s in his element. If he can drag that little bitch into a nice secluded den, that sweet ass is as good as his. Ichigo is just ahead of him now, yelping as he trips and falls. Grimmjow growls in early triumph, leaping to pin his new prize… and gasping as Ichigo yanks on a vine that swiftly clotheslines the teal haired man. Wasting no time at all, Ichigo quickly hogties the other.

“What the fuck!” Grimmjow hisses.

“That’ll teach you to chase me,” the teen states with a pleased smirk.

“You sure you wanna do that?” Grimmjow grins cockily. “These trees are crawling with wolves and jaguars… sure you can handle them?”

“Oh, I have no doubt I’ll be okay,” he smirks. “You should be more worried about yourself.”

Grimmjow growls as the youth hurries off, furious the little bitch actually set up a trap he fell for… though he can’t deny a certain sense of pleasure as that tight ass comes into his view. After Ichigo is gone, he flexes his arms and snaps the thick vine with a roar. He shakes himself in a feline manner, stretching a moment, and then hurries off to catch the smaller male off guard.

Ichigo is just entering the red light district, the streets filled with filth and grime of all types. The buildings are kind of rundown, some burned and barely standing, and the people appear more under nourished than healthy. Their clothes, men and women alike, hand from their limbs and their faces just scream ‘addict’ in most cases. He tries to give them a wide berth, yet they move toward him with hungry eyes. These inmates are the ones busted for drugs and prostitution for the most part, so they’ve never been inclined to leave this district. When a new inmate shows up, however, they’re inclined to show them their place… and teach them all they know in a twisted attempt to help the newbie survive… in one sitting. Ichigo has a horrible feeling he’ll be passed around the whole fucking district before the moon rises.

“Hey,” a healthy looking woman smiles. “I’m Rangiku, busted for killing one of my clients… the fucking prick. What’s your deal, sweetie?”

“Ichigo Kurosaki, mass murder,” he answers without thinking.

“As in _Shiro_ Kurosaki?” she gasps.

“Um… he’s my older twin.”

“… Does he know you’re here?” a thin raven haired woman wonders.

A large hand sets itself on the orangette’s shoulder, Ichigo noting how the resident whores both flinch and gaze lustfully at the one behind him. He doesn’t even have to turn around to know Grimmjow is there, his mind just dying to know how he got loose.

“I already claimed this bitch,” he growls. “Anyone to touch him will have to deal with me.”

“Stop following me!” Ichigo growls. “I’m a thief, not a prostitute! I’m not lying down for you no matter how much you help me! There’s nothing you can tell me that I can’t learn myself!”

“… If the guards don’t assign an advisor, they assume you’ll fall well into the red light district. They basically choose your profession for you, leaving the whores here to teach you the ways of the island,” he states with a feral grin.

“Why can’t Shiro be my advisor?” Ichigo almost whines.

“Unfortunately, Shiro’s been labeled incapable of caring for another life… last time he was an advisor, he ended up pimping off his charge for extra cash.”

Ichigo’s jaw drops as a strong disbelief takes over his features, the arrogant man before him glancing to the side and snarling. His hand lashes out and the teen flinches in the assumption he’s the target, but the man behind him and off to his left is. That reaching hand is caught before he can make contact with the vibrant haired teen, Grimmjow gripping hard in warning and shoving the stranger away. After a moment’s thought, the larger male turns back to Ichigo.

“Don’t worry, it benefited them both,” he hums. “Shiro loves money and his charge was a sex addict, they were both winners! The cops didn’t see it that way, though. Said Shiro made one too many bad calls thanks to his insane sadistic side, so he’s not allowed another charge. The others high on the inmate food chain are the same for various reasons… mostly murder. I’m the only one here without a record… Hell, the guards probably haven’t even bothered to tell anyone about me. I’m the only living thing on two feet within these walls… that’s _not_ a criminal of any kind.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my wonderful readers! I've read all your comments, though I haven't had a chance to reply, and I'm so glad to see some of you are excited I'm moving this fic over. For those of you that are reading for the first time, thank you so much for the reviews! I really appreciate them =) I'm currently rereading Angels of Eden... I didn't notice I had repeated so many things ^^; After that, however, I'll reread this fic and try to put up summaries and stuff. Until next update, Cupcakes! X3

Ichigo is completely speechless, his amber orbs staring in shock at the man before him. No wonder there were no records on this guy… but how’d he get here if he’s not a felon and why would he want to live a place like this? As he stands there in stunned silence, Grimmjow takes the opportunity to wrap a possessive arm around his slim waist and lead him to the apartment he’s yet to see.

Shiro and Gin are lounging outside the door, waiting for Ichigo. They have a bet on how he’ll get there, Shiro positive he’ll be alone and Gin arguing he’ll have Grimmjow on his heels. They hear the two before they see them, Ichigo yelling in fury at the arrogant man trailing after him. Shiro sighs and slips fifty bucks into his lover’s hand, Gin’s smile stretching just a tad wider.

“I don’t belong to you! Stop telling people that!”

“Yes you do, I caught you so you’re mine.”

“You didn’t fucking catch me, I’m still roaming free and you’re never gonna use me!”

“… Do I seriously have to chain you to the bed?” Grimmjow murmurs in thought. “Didn’t know you were a kink, Kitten.”

Ichigo’s anger is apparent when they come up the stairway, the apartment being on the third level. The complex consists of many buildings with four apartment flats on each of its three floors, stairs leading to each level and a balcony wrapping around the outdoor halls to make it easy to reach each entrance. Shiro doesn’t have the chance to warn the older man, those amber eyes shining a furious gold before Ichigo turns and shoves Grimmjow over the balcony’s wooden railing… but then, the snowy twin probably wouldn’t have warned him should he be given the time. The gold is gone in those eyes Shiro’s known since birth, amber pools wide in shock as he leans over the rail with a look of utter horror. Grimmjow is surprised, but only just. He gracefully twists his body and lands without a sound on his feet, body crouched in an almost primitive manner as he shakes off the subtle jarring to his bones at the landing.

“How did he… That’s not… How could..?” Ichigo stammers.

“Don’ try,” Gin shrugs. “He’s a twenty-one year old mystery.”

“Ya good, Grimmy?” Shiro calls with a stance of uncaring indifference.

“I’m good!” the other calls back. “Hey, Shiro! I think I’m falling for that bitch!”

“I’ll say ya are,” the aggressive twin cackles. “Three fuckin’ floors!”

Ichigo is blushing at the comment, however he’s not too certain if it’s in anger or embarrassment. Because of his dependence on Shiro and the other’s slightly insane possessiveness, Ichigo’s never managed a relationship. If he wasn’t stealing diamonds, training with his aunt and uncle, or even demolishing competition in the underground ring… well… it wasn’t thought of as important. Shiro was the only safe place he needed, the only one he wanted, and running into the arms of another was just unheard of in his opinion. As such, comments pertaining to anything along the lines tend to make him a bit uncomfortable. It seriously never occurred to him to have a fling before his imprisoning massacre, but right now he’s sort of regretting not doing so. He may not have meant anything by it, but Grimmjow’s comment is going to have Ichigo nervous around him from here on out.

“Tell the bitch to scoot back!” Grimmjow hollers.

*Okay, maybe not, * Ichigo sighs inwardly.

Gin quickly grips Ichigo’s upper arm and pulls him away from the thick wooden railing, Shiro tensing at the contact even as he brushes it off… Gin will be the only one he allows to touch his baby brother. To the vibrant teen’s surprise, Grimmjow foregoes the stairs altogether. The teal haired male takes a running start, springing three floors up and landing on the top of the railing in a feline manner. The teen’s jaw drops, his eyes wide as he vaguely wonders how many surprises his heart can take in one day.

“Shiro, call it in… the bitch is moving!” Grimmjow comments.

That’s about it; he can’t take any more surprises. Ichigo turns to his door, walks in, and slams it shut in their faces before locking it. The trio outside blink in shock, Shiro debating on picking the lock and going in anyway, yet no one makes a move for the door. Finally, Grimmjow grumbles to himself as he kneels to do exactly what Shiro was thinking. The lock clicks open and the teal haired male opens the door… only to fall back when Ichigo slashes out with a kitchen knife.

“No visitors today!” he snaps. “Try again tomorrow!”

“Ichi… that ain’t nice,” Shiro states teasingly. “This is Grimmy’s island, ya can’ just attack ‘im like that.”

“I don’t care who the fuck he is, no one is stepping into my personal space!” the orangette growls. “This place is crazy! I’m not moving from this spot until I’ve managed to get it figured out!”

“That’s why _I’m_ here,” Grimmjow grins lecherously. “You can start compensation with a blowjob, that’ll be the down payment. After that, it’ll be sex every night after lessons.”

“… Unless you’d like me to remove your dick from your person,” Ichigo starts with a pointed tap in Grimmjow’s groin with his blade, “I suggest you bother me on a less hostile day.”

“You don’t scare me, Kitten.”

Ichigo frowns, slicing to the right and drawing a shallow cut through Grimmjow’s jeans and skin. It’s just deep enough to bring up a few beads of blood, the teal haired inmate hissing in surprise more than pain. Ichigo’s bland look tells the other a lot, the older man shocked such a pretty thing could harm someone without an iota of emotion.

“I changed my mind,” Grimmjow states with a frown.

“Did you?” Ichigo smirks triumphantly.

“Yep. Skip the blowjob, down payment will be some fucking rough sex,” he informs. “After that, smooth sex after a strip tease… you can dance, right?”

Ichigo abruptly slams the door an inch from colliding with the other’s nose, the sound of scraping against wooden flooring alerting the trio to the orangette stacking heavy furniture against his door. Shiro remembers this from their youth, recalling with a grimace of phantom pain what happens when people force their way into Ichigo’s personal territory. _He_ was never hurt, but those that were rarely recovered their pride from the beating.

“Let’s give ‘im some space,” he suggests warily. “It ain’t a good idea ta push ‘im anymore now.”

“I’m gonna get that fuck,” Grimmjow frowns stubbornly. “I caught that bitch fair and square; it’s my right to get laid.”

“Ichi’s a… _new_ animal,” Shiro tries to reason. “He don’ like playin’ by the old rules.”

“… Fine, we’ll play his way,” Grimmjow huffs. “But _no one_ touches him.”

He pulls a permanent marker from his back pocket, scribbling on the door until a dark gothic six within a paw print that seems almost human is left. Gin and Shiro roll their eyes, remembering that gothic six as the number the guards gave Grimmjow after he was found. No zeros, no other numbers, the guards simply refer to the large male as ‘the Sexta’. It was their way of speaking about ‘the animal’ without telling superiors it was actually human. Grimmjow keeps order on the island built for sin, does the guards’ work for them, so the last thing they want is for him to be extracted. Whistling to himself, Grimmjow tucks the marker away and saunters off.

The night falls fast on the prison island, Ichigo sitting beside his window and listening to the faint strings of gossip blown his way upon the wind. So far the teen’s pieced together the food chain, which is an accomplishment. The group he saw earlier, the worst within these walls, are called the ‘peacekeepers’. They work for Grimmjow, the ‘king’, and make certain crime doesn’t get too out of hand. Stark Coyote is the assassin, taking out those too stubborn to follow the rules, and isn’t needed that often. Ulquiorra Cifer keeps track of everyone’s movements, hacking into the government files and deleting anything on those that disappear. Szayel Grantz deals with the makeshift hospital with his older brother, experimenting on those deemed ‘trouble’ as long as he leaves other patients alone. Gin and Shiro are Grimmjow’s trump cards where gangs are concerned, as the two are a perfect team… Gin gets the information needed and Shiro completely decimates all in his way. Nnoitra watches over the fights, the only one to know the rules well enough to catch when they’re subtly broken. Nelliel and Tia Hallibel protect the red light district from murderers and rapists, though only looking after individuals for a fee. Anyone protected around here has to pay for it, sometimes with money but more often with sex.

Within each district is a ‘leader’, the one that reports trouble to Grimmjow or deals with it themselves. Within the red light district, the ‘leader’ is Rangiku Matsumoto. The women was a feared prostitute even before getting locked up here, far better at dealing with violent customers than the pimps they paid for protection. There are rarely any problems here. Though there seems to be many elsewhere, as the ‘leader’ of the desert district doesn’t seem to understand this pecking order. A knock at his door startles him, the orangette moving toward the entrance warily.

“Who’s there?” he wonders cautiously.

“Rangiku,” the strawberry blonde chirps. “Did you eat yet? I made too much and thought you’d like some company!”

“Are you alone?”

“You don’t have to worry about that, sweetie,” she laughs. “You’ve been claimed by the ‘beast’ of this island. No one’s stupid enough to touch you.”

“… Hand on a second.”

She’s confused at the scraping of furniture, tapping her foot to the beat of a song she’s had stuck in her head a few days, and then Ichigo opens the door. He looks about cautiously, moving to allow her passage once he’s positive she’s alone. As he closes the door, the mark made by Grimmjow catches his eyes.

“Damn it all!” he growls. “Not even here twenty-four hours and someone’s fucked up my door with graffiti!”

“Oh no!” Rangiku states quickly as she stops Ichigo from getting the stuff to wash it off. “That’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?” the orangette wonders with genuine curiosity.

“That’s _Grimmjow’s_ mark,” she explains. “That’s the only thing keeping you safe from robbery, break ins, rape, murder, and various other attacks.”

“… I do _not_ need his protection.”

“I’m just saying, he’ll put it back when he visits next. When he likes someone enough to claim them, this is usually what happens. He’ll hound you every day until you’re his.”

“And after that?”

There’s a long silence, the woman moving to put the bag of food on the kitchen counter. Ichigo doesn’t think she’ll answer, so he grabs some plates and sets the table for them. The woman seats herself across from her new charge, dishing out the steak and vegetables she made. Sitting at the top of the food chain has its perks, namely the finer things in life. The two eat in a companionable silence for a bit, and then Rangiku sets her utensils down.

“After that he leaves,” she comments quietly. “No one has ever been a challenge enough for him, has never been enough like him, to keep his interest.”

“The ‘love them and leave them’ type,” Ichigo mutters.

“Sorry. His type is more… aggressive, stubborn… he loves the chase more than anything,” she explains. “People run, get caught, and lay down. No one has the nerve to fight back.”

“… I hog tied him,” the orangette smirks mischievously.

The strawberry blonde looks startled a moment, but soon bursts out laughing. The very thought of Grimmjow, the unstoppable hunter, bested by such a sweet looking teen… it’s hilarious! After the two get out their humor, their meal goes over much better with friendly banter. It doesn’t take Ichigo long to decide this place might not be so bad.

Ichigo is woken early the next morning by pounding at his front door, the youth grumbling in irritation as he stumbles toward it. He unlocks each lock, as there are four of them, but leave the chain lock at the top secure as he opens the door.

“Hey, Kitten!” Grimmjow grins.

Ichigo stares at him a moment, blinks tiredly, and sighs before slamming the door shut again. As much as Grimmjow loves the chase, and this one is turning into a seriously good one, he’s getting tired of that damn door slamming in his face. The teen was too tired to bother locking it once more, so the larger man just has to snap the flimsy chain to enter. The teal haired male closes the door and immediately searches out his prey, grinning from ear to ear when he finds him in bed. Grimmjow carefully lifts the blanket after kicking off his shoes, sliding between the sheets and scooting close to spoon with the beautiful bitch he’s verbally claimed. Ichigo growls in annoyance, shifting and kicking the other out onto the floor with a loud ‘thump’.

“What the hell!” Grimmjow hisses.

“I don’t let just _anyone_ in my bed,” Ichigo bristles. “If you’re going to bother me with your presence, you’ll stay on the damn floor or get the hell out!”

“… You’re so cute when your eyes are alight with barely contained rage.”

Ichigo growls in irritation, burying his head beneath his pillow to muffles the yell that follows. All the while, the older male gazes upon him in humor and interest. He’s never met a guy like Ichigo before, though Shiro’s personality comes close, and he’s finding thoughts of this vibrant haired teen taking over his mind.

The youth has spent all morning under Grimmjow’s intense gaze of cyan, the suppressed shivers of pleasure already tensing his muscles painfully. He needed out, needed a chance to lose the overbearing and infuriating man, which is why he’s currently running the back alleys. Grimmjow is good, he’ll give him that… probably the best Ichigo has come up against… but the teen is better. He makes a quick left into a whore house, the clouds of perfume nearly gagging him as he hurries through. The minute Grimmjow follows Ichigo can hear the loud cursing coupled with coughing and gagging, a smirk of sadistic joy touching his lips. Instead of going out the front door, the orangette takes the steps two at a time to get upstairs. His line of work has taught him that _every_ out should be considered. If Grimmjow is truly tracking him by scent, if he’s honestly more the beast everyone seems to be making him, the perfume here should cover his scent nicely… but only girls wear the stuff.

“The things I do for freedom,” the orangette grumbles. “Good thing this isn’t the first time I’ve had to wear makeup, or this would be awkward.”

Ichigo had gone _into_ the house of sin, but Yuki is the one that comes _out_. Yuki is a name Ichigo’s used on a few occasions for spying on targets and evading capture, so this is nothing new. The wig he found is raven, short and styled in a windblown fashion, and it goes well with his tan skin. His makeup is nothing more than black lipstick, the fade on his eyes made of brown, black and gold. As he sashays out the front door, old clothes packed in a large black purse, the wind ruffles his long black printed tee with crimson slash makes over the chest. His black jean shorts, falling just to his knees and hugging his thighs perfectly, swishes with each step and the studded belt lying uselessly around his hips glitters in the sunlight. Black gladiator sandals protect his feet, silver and black bangles adorn his wrists, and large silver hoop earrings hang from his ears. The perfume he’s now bathed in smells of lilacs and mint, completely washing away his usual scent of warm sun and cinnamon. Grimmjow passes behind him just as he’s stepping away from the door, the larger male sneezing and trying hard to get the smells from his nose. Ichigo boldly hands him a handkerchief, one Grimmjow accepts, and then walks off with a playful bounce to his steps. Playing ‘chase’ with Grimmjow might be more fun than he gave it credit for.

It’s been two hours now, the orangette watching Grimmjow hunt for him fruitlessly as he walks about and eats lunch in plain sight. The whole game still has yet to bore the vibrant haired teen. He’s halfway through his sandwich, his eyes shamelessly watching the man grumbling across the street, when someone sits down at his table.

“How long?” Shiro asks while stealing a chip from Ichigo’s plate.

“Two hours,” the younger twin snickers.

“What’s yer secret?”

“It’s either the perfume I’m wearing, or he’s just not as good as everyone thinks.”

“He’ll work it out by tonight.”

“Bet me?” Ichigo smirks. “Fifty bucks says he doesn’t find out until I go home tonight, no clues from anyone.”

“Oh, yer so diabolical,” Shiro cackles quietly. “Fifty says he catches on ‘fore ya get ta yer street.”

The two shake on it, Shiro heading off to find Gin and tell him what’s going on while Ichigo continues to enjoy Grimmjow’s mounting frustration. Once his lunch is finished, the orangette heads to the store. It’s not that he needs anything, but sweets sound good right now. He turns to enter the building, gasping as he’s knocked back by a larger man.

“Oh! Sorry about that,” the redhead murmurs. “You okay, lady?”

“Fine. Will you be giving me back my wallet, or will I be kicking your ass for it?” Ichigo frowns.

The man looks ready to deny, yet Ichigo knows him. Renji Abarai was Byakuya’s old teenaged flame before he was imprisoned for theft and vehicular man-slaughter. The whole thing was an accident… if you consider getting in a crash that killed someone while trying to get away from cops in a stolen car an accident. Ichigo didn’t know him personally, but he’s heard things.

“Okay fine, here,” Renji huffs. “Say… you up for some fun?”

“Like what?” the youth asks cautiously.

“Underground fights,” he informs as Ichigo’s face breaks out in a grin.

Ichigo knows he probably shouldn’t trust this man, but the thought of the fights he missed so much erases his doubt. With a nod, he allows Renji to take his hand and pull him away from the store and toward a warehouse. It’s quiet and the air stinks of smoke and sweat, yet Ichigo knows that smell and he loves it. This is where he lived for seven years, throwing himself at one opponent after the other when he wasn’t off stealing things. He catches a glimpse of Shiro and Gin down the street, the youth tempted to call out and drag Shiro with him… but Grimmjow would see that and he’d lose his bet. If it’s one thing he knows he can handle without his twin, it’s the fights.

“It’s just in here,” Renji smirks. “You new around here? I mean, I know everyone… but I’ve never seen you around.”

“Yeah, I just got here yesterday.”

“My name’s Renji Abarai, what’s yours?”

“Yuki.”

“… No last name?”

“What’s the point?” Ichigo smirks teasingly. “You don’t really want to know it and I don’t like to use it, so… might as well skip that part.”

Renji chuckles at that, leading the disguised teen deeper into the strangely silent building. Ichigo stops and looks around, frowning at the complete desertion of the place. Before he can say anything at all, Renji turns to look at him with a sly smirk. The orangette scowls, stepping away from the red head… and something big hits him from behind, making everything go black.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick update for you guys =) I hope the fic stays interesting enough for you. I'm hoping for a rewrite, but I don't know if it'll come anytime soon... if ever. I'm horrible at moving on quickly ^^; Once a story is done, I have like fifty more ideas. Anyway, enjoy =D

He doesn’t know how it happened, one minute he’s following Renji into an abandoned warehouse and the next he’s attacked from behind, but Ichigo is positive this isn’t good. He wakes in the middle of a ring, one dug into the ground so the fighters can’t escape should they lose their nerve, still dressed in his female clothes and nursing a headache. He stands carefully, glancing around for the man that brought him to this point. Renji is leaning against the railing above, grinning from ear to ear as he waits for the beautiful bitch he caught to wake.

“Son of a bitch!” Ichigo hisses.

“Sorry, babe, but you’re new here,” he chuckles richly. “Our fighters like the opportunity to pass on genetics, but all the bitches around here know better than to come alone. It’ll go fast, they’re usually eager enough to fight one another… so you’ll probably only get raped by one guy.”

“I’ll fucking kill you!” Ichigo snarls. “I’m _so_ telling Byakuya about this!”

Renji flinches at the name, his cocky grin falling. He’s loved Byakuya since forever, never finding another that could even compare, but no one from the island prison knows that. A larger form steps up behind the redhead, Ichigo gasping in recognition. Kenpachi Zaraki is a vicious fighter, one that goes completely insane at the prospect of bloodshed, and it took twenty officers and three tranquilizer darts to keep him down. His own uncle had to lay the trap in order to save the fighters in his underground ring.

“Nice choice, Ren,” the large man laughs. “She’s got the heart of a fighter!”

“… Yeah, she’ll breed some strong kids,” Renji comments as he pushes aside the ‘Byakuya’ comment. “Let out the fighters!”

A couple steel grates on each side of the pit open, Ichigo a gladiator waiting for the lions to attack. With malicious chuckles tinted enough to show their lack of sanity, five burly fighters enter from each side. Their dilated eyes roam Ichigo’s body, hunger and want sending icy needles spiking though the orangette as his heart thumps wildly within his chest. One, muscular and missing a few teeth, reaches for the teen with an air of authority. Though Ichigo pulls away, the man grabs a handful of his dark wig and pulls him closer.

“What a beauty,” he grins. “I’ll take my pleasure from you with great vigor.”

His breath is sour upon Ichigo’s face, his own features twisting in disgust as the first fight breaks out. These men, too busy fighting to stave off their lust on most occasions, are eager to fuck Ichigo until he can’t walk for a few months… and they don’t want to share. Thinking quickly, Ichigo maneuvers against the man he gauges to be the strongest… the one that made the first move to claim him. The hulking figure hums as the disguised orangette presses against him, careful to keep his gender a secret just in case… though he doubts it’ll matter to these sex deprived dumbasses.

“You seem so much better than them,” Ichigo purrs in a light and breathy feminine voice. “I would be your woman alone, but it would seem you have to share. Pity… how I’d love to feel you over me, to give birth to your every child. You must not be strong enough to chase away challengers, or you would kill them to better your chances.”

“My chances?”

Ichigo fights down the urge to smirk in triumph. His gamble has paid off, just as they normally do. This man is strong, but not very bright. Like all those Ichigo has crossed paths with, this burly fighter thinks with his dick and fights for the joy.

“Well, think about it,” he hums in an innocent girlish tone he normally uses to manipulate. “If you’re the only one fucking me, you’re the only one that could impregnate me. But with all these people taking turns claiming me as theirs, I’ll never know who’s passed on their legacy without a paternity test.”

“They won’t claim anything,” he hisses. “You’re my bitch!”

Ichigo is lifted by the man, set upon a wide shelf he never would’ve noticed had he not been placed there. It’s over his head when standing on the ground, the height leaving him a few inches from his own height to the top. After he’s set aside, the shit flies. Punches and kicks are exchanged as the men tussle, the youth grinning like the thief he is. He cringes when a strong punch loosens teeth, blood splattering the walls and the crunching of broken bone filling the air. Kenpachi and Renji watch in shock as the fighters fall, enjoying the violence below all started by a single ‘female’ with a silver tongue. Finally, the last man standing against Ichigo’s ‘suitor’ is knocked out. The large male, panting from the exertion of such a horrendous altercation, lifts his prize from the ledge. Ichigo is deposited on the ground, his captor pulling roughly at his clothes as the teen forces himself to keep calm. That fighter leans back to gaze upon his new bitch, Ichigo taking that moment to kick with all his might. Just as he’s known for, the power and placement of his attack yields him a KO.

“Man that guy was annoying,” he sighs. “Well… time to go!”

Ichigo stands and stretches, looking about before running forward. He leaps to the ledge and scales the side to get out, stopping at the top to glower at the two baffled men there. Renji shakes himself from his stupor first, hurrying forward to engage the rogue female. Ichigo huffs, moving into a roundhouse to knock him the other way. Ichigo turns, giving the redhead a backward mule kick to the face and hearing a satisfying crack as his nose splinters.

“I am so sick of everyone trying to claim me!” the orangette huffs. “First that crazy blue-haired bastard, now a whole gang of combatants…”

“Grimmjow?” Kenpachi balks. “He claimed some orange haired boy.”

“That’s me, dumbass! I’m hiding from him,” the teen bristles. “And you! I can’t believe Byakuya Kuchiki used to date you! I am so out of here. You touch me again and I’ll kill your stupid ass! You’ll see just how much like Shiro I can be!”

“What does that psycho have to do with anything?” Kenpachi murmurs.

“He’s my older twin,” Ichigo hisses. “I was placed here after murdering an entire gang in one go for separating us… don’t test me again. Good day.”

He turns and stomps off, vowing to return later and destroy their fighters for _his_ own pleasure. Outside the night has already fallen, the teen growling his displeasure at this turn of events… there was still so much he wanted to see. Though he’s pissed and his bag is missing, thank goodness he had nothing but clothes in there, he heads back home. He had stashed his wallet and cell in the sports bra he nicked from the whore house, his discovery coming in handy now. It’s a lot later than he expected, customers roaming the streets like flies strewn about a year old carcass. Ichigo attempts to hurry, unwilling to be propositioned by men not knowing who he is, and briefly muses things were easier when he belonged to Grimmjow. Then again… he’s never liked taking the easy way out. He rounds the corner, just coming up to his complex, when hands pull him to the side. For a moment, he completely skips the natural panic mode and heads straight for pissed off. Flinging back his head, his attacker grunts in pain when it makes contact. His grip loosens and Ichigo elbows his ribs, leaping forward for distance and kicking back hard for his finish. Adrenaline courses through his veins, joy singing along his nerve endings, and he’s soaring at the moment. His amber eyes, as he hasn’t slipped into that ‘killer’ persona, gaze upon the unconscious body of his attacker.

“I told ‘im not ta fuck wit ya this late at night,” a familiar voice cackles.

“Shi-nii?” Ichigo gasps.

Shiro and Gin are leaning on the railing outside his apartment’s door, a few of their crew having just left moment ago for their own homes. Good thing, too, or they would’ve never let Grimmjow live this down… not that these two will. Looking back to his attacker, Ichigo spies teal locks and groans in annoyance while he mentally cheers ‘I kick ass’. Shiro and Gin hurry down to help bring the other inside, although Ichigo attempts to convince them it’d be better to leave him, and the guys dump Grimmjow onto the orangette’s couch.

“Cute outfit,” Gin comments. “Ya should be careful gallivantin’ like that… bad people ‘round this place… but ya totally pull it off.”

“Like the fighters of the underground ring? Don’t worry about them, they’re idiots,” the teen scoffs. “It’s amazing how easy it was to get them to fight over me.”

“I don’ wanna know,” Shiro states immediately. “I can’ step on Nnoi’s turf an’ I know I’m gonna wanna if ya tell me.”

A groan from the couch has the trio turning to check its contents, Grimmjow carefully sitting up as he holds his head. Last thing he remembers is smelling the fight ring’s scent of sweat and bloodlust on an innocent chick, stopping her to make certain they hadn’t raped her… and then he was on the ground. He looks over to see said ‘girl’ staring at him, now seeing she much be new.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “You pack a punch, sweetheart. I feel sorry for the guy fucking you.”

“Don’t,” Ichigo waves off with hint of humor. “There’s no such guy.”

Shiro leans over his baby twin’s shoulder, practically draping himself on the other. Before he can question him, Grimmjow notes the striking similarities in their features… he’s been duped. The scent lingering about him now is his claimed bitch’s; Ichigo was using perfume to throw him off.

“You,” he growls animalistic, “are evil. I forbid you to use perfume ever again.”

“You’re just upset I figured out how to avoid you,” Ichigo scoffs as he pulls off his dark wig. “I’m a thief, Grimmjow, don’t forget that. I’ve built my life around evading capture; you’ll never catch me unless I damn well want you to.”

“Told ya,” Shiro grins in a sing-song tone.

“Shut up, Shiro!” the teal haired man bristles. “What were you doing in the underground ring? Who took you there? Who touched you?”

“That’s none of your business,” the teen scowls darkly. “I took care of it.”

“I didn’t ask that. Someone touched you and I wanna know who,” he hisses. “I’ll find out eventually, but if you tell me now I’ll only beat them until _near_ death.”

Ichigo shrugs uncaringly, it’s not _his_ fault they kidnapped him and attempted to rape him. If he doesn’t say anything and Grimmjow kills them, one more girl will be safe from that fate. He heads to his room, intent on grabbing some clothes before hopping in the shower. He’ll have to skip dinner; it’s too late to make anything.

When Ichigo exits his shower, there are a lot of things he expected. Grimmjow making him something light to eat while Shiro molests Gin on his couch was definitely _not_ one of them. With a sigh, he grabs the nearest object and hurls it. The small clock on the hallway stand smacks Shiro in the side of his face as he sits up, the force propelling him over the low couch back. Gin bolts upright in surprise, following Shiro’s descent to see him groaning on the floor.

“I would appreciate not seeing that when I walk out of my room,” Ichigo frowns.

“I would ‘preciate not gettin’ hit in the head by a fuckin’ clock!” Shiro responds. “Such a violent lil prick.”

“Pot, kettle,” the orangette bristles. “Like you have room to talk.”

“Sorry,” Gin smiles sheepishly as he attempts to defuse the dangerous twins. “He thought ya would be a while.”

“What’s Grimmjow doing?”

“Said he didn’ want ya goin’ ta bed witout eatin’ or some shit,” Shiro remarks as he picks himself up. “Yer gonna have yer hands full wit that one. He’s a ‘provider’ by nature, doesn’ feel he’s a adequate ‘mate’ ‘less yer askin’ fer him ta do shit fer ya.”

“His last infatuation was a fuckin’ gold digger,” Gin snorts. “Asked fer the most expensive shit, but Grimm-kitty stopped at nothin’ ta get it fer her. He’ll treat ya the same, if not better.”

Ichigo doesn’t like that, as he’s very independent concerning everyone but his twin. If he wants something, he’ll work to get it. If he can’t afford it and he wants it bad enough, he’ll steal it. Rangiku’s words return to him, whispering how the teal haired Adonis normally works. He doesn’t even think about it before the words spill from his mouth like vomit.

“You guys know him best, right?”

“I do,” Gin smirks proudly. “I knew ‘im the longest! Was here when the guards first found ‘im.”

“If… and it’s definitely an extremely slim chance… _if_ he were to catch me, how will I know I’m not like his other flings?”

“Well, Grimmy’s got a few rules even he don’ know ‘bout. He don’ let no one sleep in his bed, he don’ let people borrow or wear his clothes fer any reason, those he fucks are usually in the guestroom if he likes ‘em ‘nough ta let ‘em stay the night, and ‘bove all… no matter how infatuated he may be, if he don’ view ‘em as his mate… no one is allowed in his personal territory.”

“If he does any a those, he likes ya ‘nough ta keep ya fer a long time,” Shiro grins. “But that’s only if he catches ya, which I know ain’t gonna happen ‘less ya let ‘im.”

“… You bet on it, didn’t you?”

“Duh! Like I’m gonna pass up a sure thing,” the pale twin scoffs. “Gin says yer ass is Grimmy’s within a month’s time… the other’s say just a few weeks, but I said they’re full a shit. Grimmy ain’t gonna get his dick nowhere near ya ‘less yer cuttin’ it off or ya let ‘im.”

“… His exact words,” Gin sighs with a blush.

Ichigo nods in agreement, turning his attention to Grimmjow. The other is calmly moving about the kitchen, bobbing his head in time with the music the teen can barely hear blaring from the ear buds of his ipod. He’s surprised inmates are allowed such a thing, but then again they have everything else… except transportation with a motor. Finally, feeling the eyes on him, Grimmjow looks up and turns off his music.

“Here,” he comments. “It ain’t much, but it’ll hold you over until breakfast.”

Ichigo strolls over, his curiosity getting the better of him, and looks to a plate of chips with a couple grilled cheese sandwiches beside a glass of milk. He notes that Gin and Shiro are making a break for it out the front door, scowling as he assumes his twin… that’s missed him for seven years mind you… would rather have sex than keep him company. Grimmjow, however, stays put as he waits for Ichigo to eat.

“Might as well sit down,” he sighs.

The two head to the small two person table outside the kitchen area, sitting down as the orangette begins to eat. Ichigo would like to learn more about Grimmjow, but isn’t certain what to say. He’s also aware it’s extremely late; it’d be dangerous for the other to be out.

“Look,” Ichigo huffs. “I’ve never been in a relationship of any kind, okay? I never needed anyone but Shiro near me. I know what you want from me and you’re welcome to keep trying, but I won’t give it to you.’

“I don’t want anything at the moment,” Grimmjow frowns. “Except for you to shut up and eat. It’s late and I wanna go home if I’m not getting laid.”

“You most definitely aren’t,” the teen objects. “But it’s too late; you’ll get hurt out there… I was going to suggest you stay the night…”

Grimmjow’s eyes light up, his demeanor giving off lust mixed with hope and triumph. Ichigo senses this change immediately, glaring balefully before that grin can break out. The reaction confuses the older man and he hesitates long enough to give Ichigo an opportunity to explain.

“No sex. You can sleep on the couch; I don’t think I have a guestroom.”

“Spoil sport,” Grimmjow mutters in disappointment.

“You’re lucky a stranger like you is even getting that!” he snaps. “It goes against every fiber of my sane judgment! The only reason I’m allowing it is because Shiro trusts you enough to leave me alone with you!”

“Yeah… he probably shouldn’t. Then again, after he met Gin his judgment hasn’t been too sound,” the teal being teases.

Ichigo glowers at the person before him, finishing his dinner before retiring to his room. He returns with some extra blankets and a pillow, dropping them on the couch with a pointed look. Rolling his eyes, Grimmjow gets his blankets ready for bed as his hypnotic orbs of cyan follow Ichigo back toward the bedroom. As he lies upon the surprisingly comfortable couch, the image of his ‘crush’s’ ass plays back in his mind on repeat… such a glorious sight, so tight and perfect. His stays there for about an hour and a half, tossing and turning, before he gives up. Grimmjow stands, slinking down the hall to Ichigo’s room. He gazes upon the petite male for a bit, making certain he won’t wake, and then slips in bed beside him. It’s a new feeling, but he could get used to it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update for my wonderful readers! Sorry it isn't 'Angels of Eden', but I'm hoping you'll like it anyway. I'm working to get another chapter up for Eden, but things are crazy. The con was awesome, by the way! I finished my Tardis dress before going, so that was cool! Dirk Manning was there, as always. You should check out his comics, they're freaking awesome! XD Anyway, I have to charge my computer before it dies. Until next update, Cupcakes! X3

The next morning, Ichigo can’t move when he wakes. Sometime during the night, he had gravitated toward Grimmjow. His right leg is splayed over strong thighs and his arms are hugging the other’s waist like a child with its teddy bear, the orangette’s nose buried in a chiseled chest. The other body beside him is a surprise, one he’s not entirely happy with, and he stills as he attempts to gather his bearings. The form is familiar, as much as he hates to admit it, so he’s not afraid of it being a stranger. A shift from the muscular Adonis and Ichigo is caught between pretending to sleep and brushing off the whole thing.

“Morning, Kitten,” Grimmjow mumbles.

“You _do_ realize this is a huge invasion of my privacy, right?” the orangette scowls.

“And yet… I don’t care.”

He barely has time to get the comment out before he gasps in pain, Ichigo’s hand roughly handling his member. After the rough squeeze and warning growl, the orangette kicks Grimmjow out of the bed for the second time since the teen arrived in this prison. Ichigo rises, intent on sightseeing after missing it yesterday, and walks past his guest to the bathroom. He’s just climbing into the shower when Grimmjow hurriedly shoves him in.

“Get the hell out of my shower, you pervert!” the teen shrieks.

“A couple octaves higher and you could pass as a girl,” the teal haired man teases. “Now shut up and calm the fuck down, I’m not gonna bend you over in this tiny ass shower.”

“You’re quickly wearing out your welcome!”

“If I wanted to fuck you without consent, I had ample opportunity to tie you to the bed last night. Just because I’m planning on showering with you, doesn’t mean I’m planning on taking advantage… I just want to look.”

The furious orangette reaches for the first object he can use as a weapon, Grimmjow’s eyes watching warily from the back of the small shower. When the teen grips the removable showerhead, however, that caution flares into a tension just waiting for the attack. A golden-eyed Ichigo lashes out, the larger male dodging in what little space is given and wrapping the lithe body before him in an unbreakable embrace. Ichigo fights, desperate to get free and eager for blood, yet when Grimmjow grips his neck in his teeth experimentally… the teen stills at once. The feel of those slightly sharper canines resting against his artery sends a shock of submission and fear through the younger, though Ichigo manages to cast aside the whimper begging to escape.

“Interesting,” Grimmjow murmurs against tan skin.

“Wash up and get the hell out,” Ichigo hisses.

Not many would catch the significance of such a remark, but the larger male has become adept at learning new languages and rules. This is a triumph for him; he managed to locate the one action that will get the teen to submit. For each time he manages a purely dominant hold like his fangs to Ichigo’s neck… a hold meant to signify claiming in the animal world… Ichigo will relent to their argument. Thankfully, in this case it’s the shower. Unfortunately, the teal haired god is positive his prey won’t be making any repeats easy on him.

Today won’t be one of peace for the vibrant teen; his morning warned him of that. He’s out sightseeing, but Grimmjow hasn’t let him out of his sight to escape again. Losing the fight for the shower earlier is enough to piss Ichigo off royally, the younger male having been fuming since, and all he wants is a victim to lay into brutally… maybe try a few moves Yorouchi forbade for the simple fact they’re lethal if not administered perfectly.

“Ichi!” Shiro calls. “Gin’s out gettin’ info fer our next target… wanna come with?”

“Hell yeah!” the orangette grins. “I’ve been looking for some stress relief!”

“I figured ya could use it. Grimmy ain’t the easiest ta get ‘long wit.”

“That’s a serious understatement,” Ichigo scoffs. “If he doesn’t give me some room to breathe soon, I’m gonna fucking castrate his stupid ass.”

“He means well… sorta,” Shiro mumbles. “Okay, yeah… he prob’ly only has his own best interests at heart.”

Ichigo chuckles at that, allowing his older brother to grip him close as they walk off. Grimmjow stays behind enough for Ichigo to think he’s gone for now, following like a shadow to keep his bitch in sight. After his last great escape, the teal haired man isn’t chancing the little minx getting away again. When the twins join up with Gin, he hangs back further still.

“What’d ya find?” the pale twin inquires with a sadistic grin.

“They got it, Hall’s ruby necklace. She’s gonna fuckin’ flip when she finds out,” Gin reports. “Unfortunately, they got it locked up tight an’ there’s no tellin’ where they hid the safe. Not ta mention, only one a ‘em know the location an’ a totally different one knows the combination. They really thought this through.”

“Shit,” Shiro hisses. “Hall was adamant we get that necklace ‘fore we beat the shit outta ‘em, it’s all she’s got left a her time outside this place!”

“I’ll get it,” Ichigo smiles. “It’ll be a piece of cake! I’ve stolen far more difficult things than that.”

“I don’ know,” Gin frowns. “If anythin’ happens ta ya, Shiro ain’t gonna be the only one goin’ on a killin’ spree.”

“Please, don’t insult me,” the orangette scoffs. “There is no thief better than me.”

With that, he demands the gang’s location and heads off to retrieve Hallibel’s necklace. The location is easy enough to find, just a large three story building that looks to be rundown and slightly charred, and finding a target is even easier to the orangette’s practiced eye. He’s standing to the side, overseeing the other members as they unload a wagon… the replacement for trucks. It’s huge, pulled by four draft horses, and the boxes look to contain electronics. It’s obvious to Ichigo that the man is most likely second-in-command… which means he’s in the know. He wanders down the alley in a languid stroll, his hips swaying seductively as he tests the waters. If the guy is interested the teen can wheedle information out of him over dinner and drink, but if not he can beat what he wants to know from him.

“Hey, hot stuff!” an underling hoots.

“Get back to work, dumbass,” the second-in-command growls. “As for you…”

“I apologize, I didn’t realize I’d be causing trouble,” Ichigo purrs. “You see, I was told I have to find a powerful male to stay safe around here and you seemed quite the catch…”

“You think I don’t know the games you whores are playing?” he scoffs. “I’m no fool, bitch!”

“Oh good,” the teen grins maliciously. “I do hate using seduction to get what I want; it makes me feel so dirty. Besides, breaking bones is far more satisfying.”

By now, Ichigo’s eyes are shimmering gold and the gang members have begun to surround him. With a cackle worthy of his older twin, Ichigo darts forward and punches a larger man in the gut. They bend over and the orangette leap-frogs over him to plant both feet in the chest of the lackey behind him. A third dives to still the bloodthirsty teen, shocked when a foot connects with his face.

“Stop playing around and put that bitch down!” their leader snaps. “Anyone that succeeds gets to fuck him first.”

Ichigo balks at that on the inside, his body now completely taken over by his second persona that notes how the promise riles the other men… it’s time to stop messing around. His body moves quickly, darting and dodging as those around him attack randomly. With a backflip, Ichigo lands close to his target and pivots around him as he snatches the knife from his belt. The cool metal presses against the throat closest to him… another lackey eager to win points by protecting his boss… the orangette jerking the blade skillfully across his flesh and watching as he falls. Ichigo makes short work of the others, his movements so fast and soundless that the gang members go down without a fight… just like those in the massacre. Dripping with blood and grinning like a demon, Ichigo turns on the gang’s second-in-command.

“Okay,” the orangette purrs. “This is how we’re gonna handle this…”

Shiro and Gin are sitting at a small park nearby, Gin in Shiro’s lap as they kiss. The slap to the back of the pale twin’s head interrupts them, both glowering at the teen behind them. Ichigo’s grin is almost contagious, the orangette beaming through the streaks of drying crimson. He realizes that Grimmjow is lounging on the bench beside the couple, having joined them after Ichigo left… mainly to bitch them out for allowing him to wander into danger. At the moment, he’s gawking at the orangette in shock.

“Fuck, Ichigo,” he murmurs. “That look is so fucking sexy; I think I’m more turned on that I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Shut the hell up!” the vibrant twin snaps. “I’m high on the feeling of triumph and you’re raining on my parade!”

“What’d ya find out, Ichi?” Shiro asks.

“Only the location of the safe,” he waves off in feigned dismissal.

“What use is that?” Gin frowns. “We still need ta know how ta open it.”

The orange haired teen immediately appears indignant, growling his anger out as his twin’s lover looks on in confusion. It takes a moment, but Shiro is quick to placate his baby brother’s wounded pride.

“News from outside don’ reach us much, Ichi,” he says nervously. “If yer not showin’ off in here, not many people know ya.”

“… I’ll let it slide this time,” the younger huffs. “But don’t say it again. I’ll get your damn necklace tonight… deal with the gang after.”

“I refuse to let you…”

Grimmjow’s rant is cut off prematurely when Ichigo plants his foot in the teal haired man’s gut, the teen walking off in fury. He’s had to deal with too many who doubted him, after all his constant training and never-ending battles he just can’t handle the doubt… he’s worked his way to the top with a fair amount of struggle as it is.

“What the hell’s wrong with him?” Grimmjow inquires.

“Ichi’s the greatest and most dangerous thief a the past five years,” Shiro shrugs. “He struggled ta get people ta take ‘im seriously. In here, though, he’s gotta start from ground zero.”

Night falls fast enough; the young thief having went shopping before staking out his target. The gang leader lives in a nine floor apartment building… on the top floor. It’s not difficult for him, he’s had far harder, but he never appreciates the winding climb. Dressed in black with nothing on him weapon-wise, Ichigo sits as still as a statue on the roof of the building next door.

“Damn, I didn’t know your skills were so off.”

Ichigo jumps at the unexpected sound, moving just his eyes to gaze sidelong at his sudden companion. Crouching near him, looking for all the world like a predator ready to pounce, is Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. The teen shakes off his surprise, scowling at the larger man whole-heartedly.

“What are you doing here?” he hisses.

“I thought the safe was in Barragan’s penthouse,” Grimmjow states while ignoring the question. “How are you gonna get it when you’re over here?”

“For your information, Barragan isn’t stupid. He shuts off access to his floor after six, which means no one can get through by elevator or stair,” Ichigo points out cockily. “His apartment is on the top floor of a nine story building, I’m currently standing on the roof of a twelve story office building.”

“… Your point?”

Ichigo smirks before scooting back a few steps, running at full force before diving off the edge. Grimmjow’s cyan orbs are huge, his body reaching for the small male even as Ichigo slips through his fingers. He doesn’t fall long, his slim digits catching a strong power line before he effortlessly swings his frame onto it. With a wave up to Grimmjow’s stunned and hyperventilating form, Ichigo takes the power line like a tight rope.

“He’s gonna be the death of me,” Grimmjow breathes in relief.

Ichigo is nimble on his feet, practically running along the line as the target’s window comes into view. The majority of the lights are off, Barragan having stayed behind to unravel the chaos Ichigo’s earlier attack caused… apparently, they’re under the impression Shiro got a makeover and learned some new tricks. His more volatile sibling is dangerous enough to require everyone’s involvement, which is perfect for Ichigo’s current quest. After checking the place over one last time, the orangette presses his hands firmly against the glass and slides the window open enough to squeeze in.

“Idiot,” he mutters. “Doesn’t even lock his damn windows… and I’m not seeing a security system in here. I thought this guy was smart.”

“And you were correct.”

With a sharp intake of breath, Ichigo turns slowly to face the dark corner he swore was empty. There, holding a gun trained on the orange haired teen, is someone Ichigo hoped beyond hope he wouldn’t run into… Ggio Vega. Twenty-five years old, Ggio Vega is one of the most notorious assassins led by Barragan. He’s short; about five foot four, and has to be one of the most beautiful dominants Ichigo has ever come across. His raven hair is shaggy and held from his face by a red bandana, his gold eyes as piercing as Shiro’s and ten times more sane, and his cheeks are adorned with claw mark tattoos. It’s the smile, however, that has Ichigo’s heart thumping in his chest. This man easily presses dominance in such a small action, though Grimmjow’s eyes do far more pressing than Ggio’s smile.

“My, my,” he smirks fetchingly. “It really would be a shame to kill _you_. Hmm… Alright, I’ve decided.”

“… Decided?” Ichigo questions cautiously.

“Yep. I’ve decided you’re going to be mine,” he grins. “What’s your name, pretty thing?”

“… Ichigo Kurosaki,” the teen grinds out in annoyance.

“I’m sure you already know me, there aren’t many that don’t,” he remarks arrogantly. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m gonna have to secure you for the moment. I’ll untie you when Barragan comes back, though. That’s when I’ll be relieved of my post and I can take you home.”

“Oh goody.”

Ggio moves from the shadows with a grace only surpassed by the teal haired god that’s been pursuing the teen, the weapon still locked on the taller male, and stops just out of Ichigo’s range. The youth curses this fact inwardly, applying the many lessons on manipulation and strategy Yorouchi taught him.

“On your knees,” the raven commands. “And put your hands on your head.”

The teen obeys warily, knowing Grimmjow’s likely seething on the roof nearby… if he hasn’t already bolted to find a way up. Ggio drops the gun so the barrel is pressed to the orangette’s temple, his free hand gripping both of Ichigo’s wrists. The minute he’s positive the intruder is secure, the gun is tucked away… and the thief smirks at the man’s arrogance. He grabs Ggio’s wrists as best he can when they’re both within reach, yanking down to knock him off balance before falling onto his back and kicking him in the temple. A hiss of pain is drawn from the assassin, Ichigo getting to his feet with a practiced flip and sending a knee into his opponent’s stomach. Ggio swings blindly, disoriented from the hit to his head, and the orangette dodges before punching his jaw hard. A couple steps between them now, Ichigo slams a kick with the impact of a brick into Ggio’s chest to knock him out… a more satisfying KO he’s never had.

“Take that, fucker,” he cheers. “Who’s the badass now?”

Still high on victory, he locates the safe… sitting in the open within the dark corner Ggio emerged from. Not a bad security system if it weren’t Ichigo facing it. Kneeling once more, the teen carefully looks over the combination lock. It’s an old one, just a three digit combination and nothing electronic, so he presses his ear to the safe and listens for the telltale clicks as he slowly turns the number dial. He gives a small victory dance reserved for difficult targets when the door unlocks and pops open, the ruby necklace lying inside in wait. It’s tucked into Ichigo’s bag, the teen making a hasty retreat the way he came.

“Fuck, Ichigo,” Grimmjow chuckles. “You had me worried sick.”

Relief is clear in his eyes as he leans down to pull Ichigo up, the orangette touched by the slight feeling of guilt in his gut. The way back was more difficult, as the thief was forced to scale the last three floors by hand. Thankfully, the architecture is an older and more gothic type with plenty of holds. Ichigo smiles apologetically at his worried gaze, standing up after being pulled onto the roof, and reaches into his bag to pull out the necklace. It’s shimmering in the moonlight, Grimmjow grinning in a mix of pride and fascination. Just when they’re getting ready to leave, however, a quiet crack sounds and Ichigo’s body goes stiff in the wake of the shot.


End file.
